John Petrick chose an apt title for his new play being presented by the
Abingdon Theatre Company. Though Beyond Recognition refers to the main
character, whose face was significantly deformed when he was viciously
assaulted and left for dead in Central Park, it has every bit as much
bearing on what truth itself looks like once Petrick's characters are done
with it.

In the world Petrick has created, and which Kate Bushmann has effectively
brought to life with her direction, honesty is an almost completely foreign
concept. Just about every character finds it necessary to lie about this,
that, or the other thing, and it's not long after Beyond Recognition has
started that you realize any word a character utters must be taken not with
a grain of salt, but the whole shaker.

In brief: Kevin (Grant James Varjas) completes his lengthy recovery from the
brutal physical beating only to suffer an even worse emotional one: His
boyfriend Andrew (Christopher Burns) has moved from New York to Seattle,
most likely to be with someone else. Kevin makes his pilgrimage to
Washington, but is followed by one of Andrew's friends, a tabloid reporter
named Mark (David Valcin) who is intent on unearthing the real story behind
Kevin's attack. Kevin, however, doesn't know the real story - he's blacked
out most of the day.

Andrew, it's soon established, won't reveal the truth to Kevin, but that's
par for the course for him, being semi-closeted and not yet out to his
parents, or willing to own up to his own indiscretions. Mark has an "open
relationship" with his wife and thinks nothing of lying to Kevin to get the
story that may make his career. The people of New York were lying to
themselves when showing support for Kevin about their care for a fellow New
Yorker, and it might just have been Kevin's inability to tell the truth, or
recognize it in others, that led him down the road to violence in the first
place.

It's a harsh and unfriendly situation, yes, but handled effectively by
Petrick insofar as the characters are concerned; with each clothed in a
layer or two of deceit, they're all on equal footing, and all are very
difficult to like. From a technical standpoint, Petrick is a bit more
careless, using a fourth character (played by Michael Goduti) for a purpose
so deliberately unspoken that his role becomes apparent long before it's
revealed in the second act. Why Petrick bothered is unclear; he's much more
interested in the impact of all this treachery on relationships than in the
minor details of plot, and Beyond Recognition is always at its best when
dealing head on with the characters.

With the exception of Goduti, locked in a thankless and obvious role that
gives him little room to maneuver, the actors are fine, making it obvious
that each character - however heartless he or she may appear - at least
thinks enough of himself to justify his actions. That keeps the characters'
relationships to each other and the story at least believable. Michael
Schweikardt's set is attractive modern chic, and David Castaneda's lighting
successfully conveys changes in times, locations, and emotions.

Those emotional changes happen about as constantly as changes in the stories
the characters tell each other; unsurprisingly, those two events are
frequently related. Beyond Recognition is as often difficult and unpleasant
play, but it paints a jarring picture of the danger of relationships based
on anything and everything but trust.